


Something Lurks in Autumn's Warmth

by LordTraco, neeniya



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: (We want to keep you guessing as to what is actually going on), (What's horror without a little mystery am I right???), (but not canon differing), AU, Angst, Fic War, Fluff, Gen, Horror, Mentions of Death, Possibility of mentions of gore, not sure yet - Freeform, swearing-typical with canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:29:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordTraco/pseuds/LordTraco, https://archiveofourown.org/users/neeniya/pseuds/neeniya
Summary: There’s something in the forest and it’s coming for you. But don’t worry, David knows what’s going on and you can always trust the peppy councilor.A fic war between Lordtraco and Neeniya. Where’s this going? No one knows! Tags will be updated as new chapters come out.





	1. Something Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a challenge from tumblr called "Fic War". So how this works is that I try to write one chapter of horror, then LordTraco tries to write one chapter of fluff. We go back and forth for 10 chapters, sticking to our genre. There is no set plot, only a rough outline of what's supposed to happen, so things may be a little confusing at first. We can't really plan ahead either with our chapters, since each new chapter hinges on what's happened in the chapter before, so an actual summary would be pointless. 
> 
> This first chapter is brought to you by yours truly.

_ They wade through foggy underpasses, slowly, silently, meticulously waiting. They know you’re there, watching, staring, wary of the night. They smell your flesh, your sweat, your fear. They hear you breathe those ragged, shallow, aching breaths. You know They’re there and They know you know. But they don’t care. They trickle closer, you hear their dew-drop steps fall from the trees. You run, despite the pain in your legs, your hands, your neck. They creep along the ground like spiders, rustling dead leaves and snapping dry twigs. You trip, you fall, you tumble to the ground. Thousands of feet scurry and pound towards you. It’s too late, you can’t run. _

_ They’re here.   _

* * *

 

 

David awoke with a start. Heart pounding, sweat beading on his forehead, arms covered in goosebumps.

Something was wrong.

Almost frantically, he turned to is left, noting the neon green glow of his alarm clock. 6:34 am. Nothing out of the ordinary there, only 11 minutes before his usual wake-up time. He turned to his right, looking up at the sky through his window, the sun just barely making its mark on the slow moving clouds overhead. Rain drizzled lazily on the pane, leaving small trails of water. Nothing really bizarre there either. He listened intently to the quiet murmurings of morning birds. Their soft, sweet songs held no tremor. He listened to the settling of the cabin, listened to the light snoring of his friend and co-counselor in the room over. Holding his breath a moment, he strained his ears until he could hear the smallest ants tip-tapping throughout the woodwork. Nothing was amiss.

Lifting himself to sit up and look out the window properly, he noticed nothing worth worrying about in his limited view. The flagpole was still upright, none of the picnic tables had been burned over night, all the dirt was still on the ground. He swiveled his head back and forth taking in every detail. A small rabbit hopped through the gravel driveway in front of the main cabin. A blue jay flew down from its perch in the trees to rustle through the short grass for a meal. The flowers encircling the cabins were still in bloom. For all intents and purposes, everything seemed normal.

He reassured himself that everything was fine. He just had a bad dream that he, for some reason, could not remember.

But, unable to shake his unease, David got up from his bed and padded over to the bathroom. He avoided the creakiest floor boards, not wanting to accidentally wake Gwen. Opening the bathroom door with a quiet squeak, he turned to look himself over in the cracked and dirty mirror Mr. Campbell had provided. David ran a hand through his hair, noting it was more tousled than usual, like he’d been thrashing in his sleep. He disentangled his fingers and dragged his hand down his face, stopping right below his eyes. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced than the day before. He really hadn’t slept all that well, had he? He absently rubbed at his eyes, trying to hide the dark purple marks. He leaned in close, nose nearly touching the glassy surface, to further inspect his eyes.

Suddenly, David flung himself from the mirror with a yelp, practically tripping over the toilet into the bathtub. In his dark green eyes he’d seen tiny, almost non-existent flecks of gold.

Something  was wrong.

Not wrong like unexpected rain, when forecasts predicted sunny skies all week. Not wrong like the possibility of another squirrel ambush. Not wrong like the prospect of the Quartermaster cooking said squirrels for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. No. This was unnaturally, unfathomably wrong. Wrong in a way that made David’s skin crawl with unseen insects, slowly biting through his flesh and devouring him from the inside out. Wrong in a way that made David fear for his, and everyone else’s very existence. Wrong in a way David wished he’d never have to experience ever again.

Something was  _ wrong _ .

No, no no! This could NOT be happening. Surely, surely he had to be mistaken?! He gripped at the neck of his shirt, suddenly it was very hard to breathe.

Shaking slightly, and with great hesitance, David moved back to peer at his reflection. He studied his bloodshot eyes once more.

He’d been told as a child that he had the most mesmerizing eyes, that it was so easy to get lost in them. He’d been told that this would be a great advantage for him when he grew older. It wasn’t long after that that he’d started considering his eyes a curse.

He shut his eyes and sighed in relief when he found no golden flecks. Sagging against the bathroom sink, he turned the tap on and splashed the freezing water on his face.

No, nothing was wrong. It couldn’t be wrong. Everything was fine. He was fine.

Drying his face off and wiping down the counter, David turned and left the bathroom, flicking off the light and gently closing the door. He did not notice when another crack webbed through the mirror.

* * *

 

Since today was a Saturday, and thus a free day, David opted to head straight to the mess hall, rather than wake his campers. He could use a nice cup of hot tea to calm his nerves.

He rummaged through their sparse supply of tea, humming his camp song and subconsciously murmuring to himself that everything was fine. He settled on a simple black tea. Opening the tea bag, he spilled the leaves into his #1 Camp Counselor mug and poured in steaming water from the coffee pot the Quartermaster left aside for him and Gwen to use. The strange man had his own pot off to the side, but David and Gwen, and especially the kids, were not to use it. Something about mumble mumble cognac mumble mumble sprites. David had just smiled and agreed to the terms, not wanting to anger their dear Quartermaster and really not wanting to know what he’d meant by “sprites”.

With tea properly stewed and a bagel between his teeth, David went back out to sit at the picnic tables and watch the sun finish its morning stretch. The light drizzle had let up, leaving everything slightly moist, but David didn’t seem to mind.

It was only 20 minutes before the first campers began emerging from their tents. First was Harrison, then Preston, followed by Dolph. Over the next half hour all the campers slowly woke up and in a zombie-like daze made their way to the camper bathrooms, dragging their feet and rubbing their eyes as they went.

Focusing back on his meal, David sipped slowly at the rest of his tea, leaving just enough liquid to slosh the tea leaves around. Mother had taught him how to read tea leaves, and although he wasn’t very fond of most things she did, he’d learned that there was no malicious intent behind this simple ritual. Biting into his bagel, David peered into his cup. He couldn’t quite remember all of Mother’s teachings on this subject, but he knew enough of the basics to get a good understanding of his fortune. David determined that his leaves formed a flying bird with a crescent above. He furrowed his brow. No, not a flying bird. Mountains?

David’s eyes grew wide with realization. It was fire. And the crescent shape was the moon.

David was suddenly wrench from his divining by the unholy scream of a terrified child. His cup fell from his hand to the earthen floor, handle shattering off on impact. Without a moment’s hesitation, David rushed to source of the sound.

Something was most certainly wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment your thoughts! We'd love to know what you're thinking and are all for any crazy theories you have to make sense of all this nonsense!


	2. Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by LordTraco.

The gloomy day started much earlier for a certain camper. He stared at the top of the tent with a frustrated sigh as yet again it was a 4am morning.

“Stupid insomnia. Stupid fucking camp.” Max muttered, getting his hoodie back on as quietly as he could so as not to wake up Niel.

His dream had been… particularly… okay? Strange, but overall calming. There was an endless black ocean that not even the light of the moon could penetrate or reflect off of. The rustling leaves and cool chill held him in an embrace that slowly warmed as the moon set in the distance. Soon after, he was floating in the middle of that ocean, but enveloped in this dull red light that warmed him just enough to reach a comfortable level he’d not noticed leaving.

From the maroon light keeping him just a tad bit aloft, patterns flowed into the surface of the ocean, threatening to illuminate what lay beneath. But all too soon it snapped back as if fearful of revealing anything. Then he was on a soft red bridge of autumn leaves in the dark, starless sky and murky black nothingness beneath him. It wasn’t until Max’s mind wondered why he could even see the color of the leaves that he looked down. His own form was giving off the same soft light as that warm thing earlier. Though it was a deeper hue, closer to a browned leaf than the bright red of one just turning for fall.

For a small moment, he considered jumping off the bridge and finding out for himself what lie beneath, but that was when he’d awoken to a bleary night. The ugly night that seemed more… brown than usual. He wasn’t glowing, how dumb would that be? Those odd gold bits of light shining on the canvas of the tent was just his imagination or fireflies. Yeah, probably fireflies.

He couldn’t stop thinking of that deep red entity. The one that gave off such a feeling of safety and care and… familiarity. He wished he could have more dreams like that. Especially right now because fuck mornings. Fuck the red rays that aren’t even up yet.

After fumbling around some more, he decided to go off and at least start up some trouble. Maybe take out a table leg so it falls when someone puts weight on it, maybe feed the platypus some coffee, maybe…

Something propelled his feet past the mess hall, however. Something called to him. The moon hung high overhead, though almost looked to be a small sliver… hadn’t it just been full the night befo… the beginning of this night? Yeah, Nikki had lamented about yet another full moon going by without turning into a werewolf.

The clearing he eternally knew as “the place David always annoyed us with the Camp theme” came closer and closer into view. As much as David had tried to make that place annoying, there was this… feeling. This promise of safety and comfort. The feeling of that red being embracing, warming, and protecting Max. When had it been a being? It was only a glowing mist in the dream…

But as he drew closer, Max thought about turning around, thought of how that red mist being could be lying. Could be fake and luring him into his death… but a new thought spurred him onwards. David. The man who abandoned parents day for his sake, the man who thought he was the best camper and tried to make him a large bonfire in celebration of that… That stupid, stupid counselor who always made life just a tad bit more bearable while he was stuck here. That place was associated with the one adult who never let him forget that he cared.

The open meadow was eerie in the darkness, but something was off about it as Max looked. There were yellow leaves all around, in varying stages of brown. They littered the entire ground and all the trees. Not a speck of green or red could be found. There was only the endless sea of yellows, browns, and the moon. As he looked, there were no longer any recognizable landmarks behind him. Beside him? Everything felt dizzy for just a moment before everything felt… fine.

He could sleep here.

* * *

  
David ran towards the scream, fumbling with the ring in his pocket. It was that ugly old iron ring he’d fashioned at last year’s Blacksmithing Camp. It was repulsive and he hated it with a fiery passion for more than enough reasons, but it reminded him of home and how that home was not going to be any part of his life _now_ .  He would _not_ allow it.

And if he kissed the disgusting ring in futile hope of winning some favor or pity from the one it represented in his heart… if he kissed that putrid metal to show how truly powerful he was to all who comprehended… who could truly know for sure or blame him for it?

As he rounded one final corner and two campers came running, David prepared himself for anything. The soft buzzing sound was unexpected. Had Harrison simply stepped in a wasp nest? A bee stung David before he could slow down. Backing up, he regrouped with the kids behind him, letting the bees return to their own business.

“What happened?” David asked, picking the bee that had stung him off. Harrison had been stung 10 times, but Nerris looked fine.

“We were just trying to set up a card game on some flat dirt and those bees came out of nowhere!” Harrison said, picking off the large bees and barely hiding the tears of pain.

“I rolled high on initiative and got out of there, but he’s weak to physical attacks.” Nerris added helpfully, though she did place a hand on Harrison’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“But these are… carpenter bees. Known for their calm nature. They shouldn’t have attacked you out of nowhere.” David said, inspecting the one which had stung him. It truly was one of the fluffy giants… strange.

“I did feel like there was magic going on over there, but I can never be sure. All of Camp Campbell feels like magic.” Harrison offered. David knew keeping the boy’s mind off the pain was doing some good, but it was better to stop that line of thinking and… get the poor kid some pain meds.

David smiled, clutching at his abhorrent ring with a well practiced chuckle. “Well it has to be magical for Magic Camp! Nerris, why don’t you take Harrison back to get looked over by Gwen. I’m sure you’ll want a little numbing cream on those and they should heal up fine!”

“Quest accepted!” Nerris beamed, hefting Harrison into her arms. Everyone involved was impressed, including Nerris. She ran off with a smile and rambling something about constitution and strength stat training. That friendship she had with Nurf certainly was benefiting both of them.

David couldn’t help but grin at her antics, but as soon as they were out of sight, he walked forward. This time, the bees did not attack him, simply milling about in the way bees do. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps someone just wanted to put the magician in his place with a little something… maybe that was all.

He shooed the bees away with his ringed hand and headed back to camp. True it wasn’t an activity day, but perhaps a little camp song was in order. He’d learned some marching tunes for little Dolph, some classic video game soundtracks for Nerris and Neil, of course some more classical pieces for Preston, and while he hadn’t quite figured out what the others would like, he figured some alt rock music would be more to the taste of Nurf and Max.

Max.

“ _Shit!_ ”


	3. Shit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I am a day late, but it's here!   
> This chapter will answer some of your questions, but really will leave you with more questions than ever.

“Shit!” Gwen cursed quietly as she accidentally tripped on her way to the mess hall.

She looked down at the object beneath her feet and found a dead blue bird. Gwen frowned slightly. If she were superstitious she would believe this to be a sign of bad luck. But she wasn’t, so she nudged the bird out of the way, making a mental note to tell the Quartermaster to clean it up before one of the kids got to it. God they could be so gross sometimes.

Kicking the door open with much more force than necessary, causing the nearest campers to jolt out of their daze, Gwen dragged herself into the kitchen to fix herself some breakfast. Like hell she was going to eat whatever the fuck QM decided to serve today. She didn’t know why, but his morning meals were always more questionable than lunch or dinner.  

With a hot mug and granola bar, Gwen sat at the only decent table the camp had, slowly sipping her coffee flavored milk latte, watching the campers eat whatever slop the Quartermaster had served up today. She scanned the hall, ready at any moment to jump into action should one of these monsters decide to try something funny. But amazingly, it didn’t look like anyone was going to do anything. In fact, the kids seemed uncharacteristically quiet. But given that somehow most of them had also woken up at a strangely early hour, it wasn’t entirely surprising.

Gwen was never an early riser herself and she loathed waking up to find sunlight gently caressing her face. Yet when she awoke to the soft pitter patter of rain, and the light warmth of sun rays peaking through the clouds and her curtain, she could not deny that it felt almost nice. She instantly amended her thoughts when she realized the time. 7 am was way too damn early to be awake, especially on a Saturday.  

Staring down at her cup, Gwen decided that she missed the taste of actual coffee and went to spill the contents down the drain. Screw her anxiety, she needed some caffeine in her system to deal with whatever the hell was going to happen today. And something would happen today, she just knew it, if the screaming earlier was anything to go by.

Slipping out of the mess hall with a fresh cup of joe in hand, she made her way to where she remembered David sitting before he rushed off to help whoever had screamed. He had been staring rather intently at his cup before he left, she hoped he had not been reading his tea leaves again. The last time he’d done that the camp had practically burned to the ground that day and they had had to send a camper home. She also hoped that the broken cup she found on the ground was not an indication of ill times to come. She shook her head, she was  _ not _ superstitious.

She bent down to collect the cup and its pieces before one of the hell spawns got their hands on the sharp porcelain. Couldn’t be letting the kids fashion any more weapons, now could she? Inspecting the cup she found that there was a clean break where the handle attached to the body of the cup. She pieced the two together and grinned at the soft clink the cup made as the peices connected perfectly. It was nothing a little glue couldn’t fix.

She put the handle in the body of the cup and was about to place the cup on the table next to her own mug when she was startled by a long and suffering, “GWWWEEEEENNNNN!!!”

The cup fell once more to the earth and shattered almost completely. Hairline fractures snaked up the larger pieces, threatening to shatter at the slightest movement. 

Suppressing a groan, she turned to the child that had so rudely broken her morning peace.

“What?”

Before her stood Nerris and Harrison, the latter of whom was held bridal style in the former’s arms. She also noticed the tear tracks falling down the boy’s cheeks.

“Oh, geez, what happened? Did Nurf bully you again?” Gwen bent down to be level with the two magic kids. Her face not showing the faux concern her voice conveyed.

“No, Harrison’s just a pussy that can’t handle a couple bee stings!” Nerris ungracefully plopped Harrison down on the ground. He got up, rubbing his back then wiping away the tears that were still falling.

“It was more than a couple Nerris! And bee stings hurt a lot!” The boy turned to glare at Nerris.

God it was too early for this. Gwen rubbed her temples and stood.

“Alright, alright, no need for yelling. Come on let’s go clean those up and put some cream or whatever on them.”

The trio walked back to the counselors’ cabin where the kept a rather impressive supply of first aid equipment. Gwen was thankful that of all the facilities Campbell had decided to keep up to date and fully functional it was the first aid kit. God knows what would happen if they didn’t have nearly half of what was contained in the cabinet. In all honesty though, it was probably a precaution against having to call an ambulance, and thus the police, in case a camper ever got seriously injured. Although, it was no replacement for a real medical practitioner, and neither she nor David were qualified for anything beyond basic stitching and CPR. Gwen shuddered. Poor, poor Jeffrey.

The entire way to the cabin, Nerris and Harrison were bickering about how magic worked or some shit. Gwen didn’t really care, but she did notice that at least the boy was no longer crying. Despite having a psych major, she couldn’t really deal with crying children. It always invoked some maternal instinct within her that she didn’t know what to do with. So instead she’d shove it down and cover it with heavy sarcasm and spite.

They arrived without much fanfare. Gwen ordered Harrison to sit on a short stool while she delicately plucked out the stingers in his arms. Nerris decided to stop her rant on whether pulling ropes from one’s sleeve constituted real magic even if there was proof that the ropes were not hidden on the person, and decided to stand silently beside Harrison. Gwen was relieved to see that their arguments were shallow and that at least the girl knew when to be serious. Harrison turned his gaze away from his arm, not wanting to see the process. His eyes began to water once more.

After removing the stingers she swabbed the boy’s arm with disinfectant and applied a thin layer of some healing ointment David had made. She never really thought about what the substance was or how it worked, all she knew or cared for was that it did work. Almost instantly Gwen noticed the red bumps fading.

After Harrison was properly treated she shoved the duo out of the cabin, giving Harrison a few tissues and some face wipes, and told them to go be nerds somewhere else. They started their bickering again as they left. Gwen almost smiled, but caught herself when she realized she’d left her coffee and the broken mug unattended back at the mess hall. Her coffee was probably already cold or gone, taken by some sleep deprived camper. Probably Max or Neil. Gwen looked towards the mess hall just in time to see Neil slip the cup off the table and dash inside. That little shit. Ugh, whatever, coffee was bad for her anyways.

She decided that she didn’t want to see any more campers on the one day off she got this week and stomped into the forest. Maybe she could get in touch with her inner nature child and finally find some peace of mind.

Gwen scoffed. “As if,” she mumbled to herself.

She found herself following one of the less traveled trails. If memory served her right, this path led up toward a small clearing that stood atop one of Camp Campbell’s many hills. Once in a blue moon, David would take hikes with the campers here singing the most obnoxious songs he knew. 

Gwen pondered a moment. Strange, she couldn’t recall David singing so horridly on any other hiking trail. What was up with that? 

Deciding it wasn’t worth her brain power to think of something so meaningless, she shifted her focus to her surroundings. The path was overgrown with small yellow and blue flowers, but surprisingly, there were no twigs or branches blocking the way. For such an unused path, it was pretty well maintained and oddly, very pretty. She stooped down to pick a yellow flower and brought it to her face. It was almost sickly sweet, but still pleasant. She tucked it behind her ear and continued her trek.

She would never admit it out loud, but she actually enjoyed being in the forest. It was quiet and there were no annoying people to bother her. Slowly she began to relax.

Further along the path, Gwen absently noticed that it was getting darker. She looked up toward the sky, but found the foliage too dense to properly see anything. Somehow, it didn’t bother her. She kept walking.

She doesn’t quite remember this part of the forest being so dense, nor does she remember this path being so long, but since David tended to stay clear of this path whenever he’d take the campers hiking, she guesses that she must be mistaken. It was much darker now and she noticed lightning bugs flitting through the forest underbrush. Something in the back of her mind told her to turn back, some half-forgotten warning David had given her. She pushes that voice down, instead listening to the sweet melody that was weaving its way through the trees and breathing in the even sweeter scent of the flowers. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever been this calm.

Eventually she makes it to the clearing. It’s much bigger than Gwen thought, stretching at least 100 yards. Exactly 9 large oak trees encircled the entire ring and the tiny yellow and blue flowers scattered throughout the soft grass. At the far end of the clearing was an impressive weeping willow tree. Gwen didn’t even know there were willow trees all the way out here. Its leaves swayed gently in a soft, cold breeze, as if beckoning her to sit at its base. Gwen shivered slightly as another breeze pushes her forward. There are more lightning bugs now coming out from behind the willows long branches. She follows a couple with her eyes as they ascend. She quickly loses them as they fade into the night sky. She tilts her head up to take in the full view of the endless sea of stars overhead. She’s pretty sure it was morning only a couple moments ago, but the impossibly bright crescent moon makes her forget the thought. It’s absolutely mesmerizing. A lazy smile graces her face. Wow, she is loving this nature stuff. She wonders why she was never this at peace all those other times she’d gone on hikes, but the thought doesn’t linger long as she feels a soft warmth encircling her, wrapping her bodily.

Then that warmth suddenly tackles her to the ground.

“What the fu-DAVID?!?”

“Gwen! I told you not to go here alone!” David stared at Gwen with wild eyes, practically on the verge of tears. His eyes move over her form checking for injury. He stops when he notices the flower in her hair. 

Gwen shoved him off aggressively, “I’m a grown woman, David! I can go wherever the hell I please!”

Disentangling himself from her, David stands and offers an arm out to Gwen to try and pull her back into the forest with him.

“Please, Gwen, it’s not safe here.” David’s eyes shift nervously, as if he’s waiting for some monster to reveal itself.

Gwen readies a retort about how she’s perfectly capable of handling herself in the woods, but hesitates. Something about the way David’s hands shake and the way one arm grips tightly to his chest makes Gwen uneasy. Sure David’s a skittish person, but she’s never seen him quite like this, especially about a random clearing in the middle of the forest.

Gwen’s eyes go wide. Oh.

She turns to the clearing, then back to David. The impressive oak trees are now barren of leaves and many look to be in some stage of decay, and the weeping willow is replaced with a large pine tree. Her eyes go wider. She plucks the flower from her hair and stares at it a moment. 

“Oohhh.”

She reaches an arm up for David to grab. He takes it and lifts her up, only to suddenly drop her.

“Ouch, what the hell, Dav-”

But before she finishes her sentence David is suddenly running towards the center of the clearing. Gwen picks herself up and notices something lying on the ground there that she hadn’t seen before. David crouches on the ground near the figure, frantically calling out to it.

Gwen furrows her brow when she finally hears what he’s saying.

“Max?” Gwen is sprinting towards David before she even has time to think.

* * *

 

 

[earlier]

“ _ Shit! _ ”

David swiveled in place and frantically searched his surroundings for the boy, mentally reaching out for his presence. He rushed to the mess hall and threw open the doors in a much more dramatic pose than he needed. All heads turned to the panicked counselor and he sheepishly brought his arms back to his chest and let the double doors swing shut behind him. He cleared his throat and gave a quick good morning to his campers. After a quick head count he found Max, Nerris, Harrison, and Gwen to be missing. Nerris and Harrison could be accounted for, and Gwen was probably still asleep, but where the heck was Max?

Keeping his pace to a brisk walk, as to not give away that he was actually freaking out right now, David made his way to Nikki and Neil’s table.

“Good morning, you two! Enjoying your breakfast?” He managed to take the tremor out of his voice and paste on an overly enthusiastic smile.

Neil nearly jumped out of his skin as David approached, quickly hiding his hands below the table. He eyed David warily, looked down at his food, and then turned to look at Nikki, who was chowing down on her meal. Nikki grinned through her full mouth, revealing a less than pleasant show of half chewed food. David resisted the urge to gag.

“It’s great/gross,” Nikki and Neil said simultaneously.

“It sure is surprising to see all you campers up so early on a Saturday. But I can’t help but notice your trio is down a member? Where’s Max? Is he still asleep?” Smooth, David, smooth.

He mentally berated himself for his inability to be subtle, but decided it was best to cut to the chase anyway.

David waited a beat, hoping one of the two would answer his questions, but Neil seemed to be avoiding David’s eye contact and Nikki was too busy stuffing as much food in her mouth as possible. She even snagged Neil’s plate and began shoveling the food onto her tray.

Finally Neil looked up.

“Uh, he, um,” the boy paused like he wasn’t sure if he should say this.

Max had not been in his tent when he’d awoken and had initially assumed that he’d just gone to the mess hall without him. But when Neil had arrived to breakfast without spotting Max, he’d assumed that perhaps he’d managed to escape. And if that were the case, then Neil really didn’t want to be the one to ruin Max’s one and only successful escape plan. Sure he was a little sad that his friend had not taken him along, but not upset enough to mess this up for Max.

Actually, scratch that. Neil was very upset.

“He wasn’t in the tent this morning. I don’t know where he is. He probably escaped and is long gone.” Neil brought his hands back up from underneath the table, revealing Gwen’s mug that he’d stolen from outside and took an angry sip.  

David was out the door before Neil could say anymore. Though he quickly rushed back in with Nerris and Harrison held up by the backs of their shirts. He deposited the two and quickly shut the door, barricading it with the picnic table he’d been sitting at earlier. He left the campers confused and slightly concerned, but that didn’t matter, he could make up some story later as to why he trapped them inside a closed space with the Quartermaster. Though knowing them, they’d quickly devolve into chaos and the QM would probably end up tied to the ceiling fan again. He put up another picnic table against the door, just in case. If his intuition was correct, and it usually was, then he couldn’t have any more campers leaving the camp grounds.

He ran to the counselor’s cabin to check if Gwen was in. He really hoped she was, but seeing Neil with her favorite mug had him thinking otherwise. To his disappointment, she wasn’t there. He stepped out of the cabin, gripping the door frame, trying to control his breathing. A flash of heat coursed through his body suddenly, that same feeling of wrongness he’d felt earlier this morning was back.

Whipping his head in the direction of a certain clearing in the middle of the forest, David finally realized what that wrong feeling was.

He ripped the ugly iron ring off his finger, pocketing it before running like he’d never run before straight into the forest. He felt his legs get lighter with each step and he could feel himself practically flying off the ground. He didn’t care about the tree branches he was inevitably breaking or the flowers he trampled, he could mend those later. He had to get to that clearing before it was too late.

Images began entering his mind unbidden. Scenes of bloody deaths and tortured screams filled his head. 

No! He wouldn’t let that happen again. He’d get there in time, he’d save them.

As he neared his destination, David feels something heavy filter through the sickly sweet air. Suddenly he’s tired and he slows to a jog. Right before the mouth of the clearing he stops. He’s overcome with a feeling of peace and serenity and an odd sense of being home. David almost, almost sits down to maybe take a nap, but instead grabs his ring, replacing it back on his finger.

With a slight hiss, reality comes back into focus. David shakes his head from whatever spell had him. With the absence of peace comes an overwhelming feeling of fear. He looks across the clearing, noting the browning leaves of the trees around him, and spots Gwen almost halfway to the clearing’s center.

David breaks out into a sprint again, reaching out to her before he tackles her to the ground.

* * *

 

 

[now]

David is shaking Max almost violently, trying to wake him. The boy is deathly cold and impossibly still, if it weren’t for the slow pulse David felt in his wrists, he’d have thought he was dead.

Gwen is at David’s side, tapping Max’s cheek. She looks over her shoulder when she suddenly gets the feeling of being watched. David whips his head up to where Gwen is staring, sensing the same presence.

There, at the end of the clearing, underneath a large evergreen is a pair of eyes.

David grips Max and holds him close to his chest.

“Gwen, g-get behind me,” David demands. Though it comes out less forceful than he’d hoped.

Gwen obliges, not questioning what is going on at this point, just hoping David knows what he’s doing.

The being to which the eyes belong to reaches a hand out from the shadows. It is long and slender and impossibly pale. Claw-like fingers uncurl from a fist, revealing a small red flame in its palm. The being clasps its fingers back into a fist, snuffing out the flame aggressively. It whispers something then fades into mist.

The clearing is suddenly very empty feeling and dead. David shutters and slowly stands, making sure Max is secure in his hands. He stares at the space where the being once stood.

“David, what the hel-” Gwen begins.

David suddenly whirls around, panic taking over his system once again.

“Shit! I locked the campers in the mess hall with the Quartermaster!”

“You WHAT?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment your thoughts! We'd love to know what you're thinking and are all for any crazy theories you have to make sense of all this nonsense!
> 
> A side note since this isn't really common knowledge: In tea divining, the handle of the cup represents the self and the body of the cup is where the tea leaves reveal events to come. Do what you will with this information, just thought I'd let you know.


	4. Cookies and Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The campers make the most of their stay in the mess hall as Gwen and Max each get some very different impressions of whatever weird thing is living in the forest. Lies start to unravel and David is walking a quickly fraying tightrope.  
> But hey there are cookies!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again dear readers! This chapter is brought to you by LordTraco!

“Lunar commander to pilot! Ksshh!” Dolph said, painting a scene of a starry sky, thankfully without any bad symbolism… yet. The kid was pretty oblivious to the current situation of being locked in the mess hall.  

“Not pilot, aaastronaut!” Space Kid corrected, zooming around in circles with his toy spaceship. “I’m hitting the rings of saturn aaa!”

Dolph chuckled, painting a saturn with a broken ring, which Neil tried to say wasn’t possible, but the two youngest campers were giggling happily so he left it be. 

“I broke Saturn!” Space Kid exclaimed in pretend horror.

“We needed that!” Dolph said, smiling bright as he added in some more colors. “At least it wasn’t-”

“I just broke Jupiter toooooo!” Space Kid cried out and in moments the two were on the floor laughing at the sheer ridiculousness. 

 

In the corner, Erid smiled at their antics, patting Harrison’s shoulder. The two of them had cool kid glasses on in solidarity while his eyes calmed down from their red post-crying state. Nurf had tried to laugh at him over crying, but Erid just gave him the “Gwen Gaze” and shared some glasses with the magic kid. 

The cool magic kid. 

The other magic kid, Nerris, was off in the other corner distracting Nurf from his mild claustrophobia by teaching him some card games. Nikki had joined at some point and was reenacting every battle between their creature cards with admirable attention to detail. 

All while Preston took notes. Neil could only hope their next play would perhaps NOT involve Nikki being shoved into a dress. He heard some muttering about “Warrior werewolf princess” and rolled his eyes. Preston would be Preston. 

This left Neil to wander around the mess hall wondering what happened that would have Max, Gwen, and now David gone so long. Max had mentioned going out for pizza during that play fiasco, but that was when other adults were around to watch them. No, he probably just ran off and they went after him. 

Neil sighed, looking around the room for which group to latch onto now that he couldn’t just follow Max’s lead. Sure he could follow Nikki, but he was fairly sure he’d be convinced into joining her fighting sequences and get bitten. 

Pride, or at least what he really REALLY hoped was pride, would NOT let him hang out with Harrison. That dang cool magician really looked awesome in sunglasses. 

Which left… the kiddie corner. 

Neil sighed and cursed Max for leaving him to this fate.

* * *

 

...He was here again. The little curiosity that the mighty being could not fathom. The traitor kept this child in particular hidden from her. Why?

The invisible one drifted around the sleeping form within her domain. She knew only that there was a bond between this child and the traitor. One she presumed was due to their mutual trust wrought in these months of camp. Perhaps that was all it was, but she had to be sure. 

What reason would there be to hide a human from her gaze? There were other humans in his little abomination of a “camp” that held the sight. If it was merely that, he would be hiding them all. 

Unless this little one was her own blood. Which he was, she could tell now. The soul within held an icy chill just like her. Now she just had to find out if the link was truly a parental one. If so, if that traitor was the one to will this magical little one into existence, there surely would be a link visible within his dreams. 

Either way that traitor would pay  _ dearly _ and this young one would be lied to no longer. 

* * *

 

“You know not of me, do you, little one?” A voice asked in the cool breeze that enveloped Max like a hug. He was back in that dark endless void of a glistening black beach and a starless sky with only a bright white moon for light.

“No, who are you?” He asked, but the sound warbled and disappeared in the wobbly world he saw. It felt exactly like the… the thing Daniel had built. That same feeling calling to him about how safe he was. How loved he was. 

Some part told him to fight it, that this time there was no David to prove anything to. There could still be a life on the line. But it was in vain. Everything felt alright and the almost unbearable tension of every muscle relaxed for just a moment. 

“Many call me Mother. You are of my blood, little one, why do you live in the world of the cruel and dying?” A wisp of cool air brushed at his cheek like an unseen hand caressing his face.

“I don’t… know.” No biting comebacks could be reached in this daze. Max leaned into the phantasmal touch. Something in him longed for that red thing from his other time here.

“I will bring you home before anyone can hurt you further. It was the traitor’s fate to die there, not yours.” When the word “traitor” was used, he saw the same red as earlier. That dull red that looked like background noise, that looked like the heat of one’s body, that could easily be overlooked, like a brick or a red fall branch. The red or maroon that just felt… like home. Not like any home he’d known in his life. Like a home he’s dreamt of for years, with comfort and the smell of apples and cinnamon.

And so the world shifted to match that kind of home. It became a chilly winter’s night with only a small candle in the distant living room and the moonlight cascading through a giant window. He was adrift in a kitchen, sitting yet not sitting on a chair at the table. The muted purples and winter imagery decorated every inch of the room; the curtains, the tablecloth, the wallpaper, even the lights though left off were like fantastic snowflakes that glittered and shimmered uncanny in the moonlight.

Max took a long while just to feel the smoothness of the wooden chair, the delicate softness of the tablecloth, and the absolute quiet stillness. It was empty in a comfortable way, motionless unless he willed it otherwise. In here, he was king. The annoying flickering of that flame in the living room was the only thing that said otherwise. Slowly, the door to that living room closed and the voice returned.

“You have been hurt, abandoned, overlooked… and now the one who has gained your trust lies to you… I can promise you choice, freedom, and truth, little one. Will you tell me your name?” Came the voice again. He still couldn’t make out a shape, but the oven doors opened to reveal cookies. His favorite kind. Ginger snaps.

“Max.” He replied, fighting just enough to keep a smile from his face. Something was missing from the stove, but he couldn’t make out what. 

“No, that’s not it. How sad that you believe it so.” The voice said as the little batch of 8 cookies floated onto a plate and then towards him. “Nevertheless, even a false name betrays some truth. Max, the culmination of the greatest of all possibilities, the numerical highest point…”

“What’s yours?” Max asked, eating one of the cookies. It was pretty hard but still very sweet.

“My name is one of immense power, leadership, yet compassion and gentleness toward those in my charge. Perhaps a most fitting name to you would be Roosevelt?”

“Like the old president?” Max asked, breaking out of the daze just enough to laugh. “Fuckin’ seriously??” 

The chill touched his cheek again softly. Part of Max expected it to be a slap for swearing, but it was nothing but gentle and calm, returning him to the easy, tenseless daze. 

“Is that not from whom the term Teddy Bear came?” The voice asked, her form getting just a touch more real, more solid. Like electric strands of light in the approximate shape of a human. Slowly it filled out with smooth ribbons of grays and whites until the shape looked like a mummified ghost with flowing, glittering, edges that faded into nothingness. 

As Max looked for more features, they revealed to him more and more beautiful details, like pushing away the fog. Her face was beautiful and kind with piercing eyes, her long robed dress gleamed like the moon, full of craters that somehow became intricate and fascinating patterns ever shifting around. He could’ve sworn he saw a bunny shape in there, though.

She held out a hand to his face again, locking him with a gaze of pure caring love and pride. “You see me?” She asked, looking and  sounding almost on the verge of tears.

“I can now, yeah.” Max said, “Were you hiding before?” 

She chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder affectionately before taking a seat and a cookie. “No, Max, it just takes time to adjust one’s eyes to me. I would never hide from you purposefully, you are such wonderful company.”

“I am?” Max said, blinking in confusion.

“Have you been led to believe otherwise?” She said in mild shock.

“I…” Max looked down to his plate of cookies, then to the wall opposite her. The tension came back along with that heavy feeling he always got when admitting how he was treated at home.

“Please trust in me, Max, you are so very worthy of caring company.” She laid a gentle hand on his, which he pulled away quickly.

“Bullshit.” Max growled, “You only fucking think that cuz I’ve been all polite for the moment!!” 

She only laughed again, bringing a hand to her mouth as the first less-than-ladylike laugh came out. Damn, had she never heard swearing?

“Forgive me, your vivid words caught me off guard.”

“Fuck.”

She successfully fought back a laugh.

“Ass fuck.”

She hid her face in her hands and snickered through them. Max smiled without worry of her seeing. 

“Shitty ass fuck on a goddamn crapload of bull.” Max said before laughing along at her uproarious laughter. 

“You are most certainly my favorite guest.” She said honestly, lifting her face from her hands and wiping away her silly tears. 

So it was true. She looked towards the living room, the door to which had crept open again. The candle was closer now, its scent drifting in on a breeze. She hid a decidedly sinister grin while Max contemplated another cookie. That pesky flame would  _ pay _ for causing her lovely guest such anguish. 

“Seek me out away from the traitor who this way comes.” Roosevelt said, hugging him and fizzling out like a damaged radio signal. The room faded and cracked and grew red. 

So very red. 

Then dark.

Suddenly there was only the inky blackness and the return of tensions and absolute cold. A chill so pervasive he couldn’t even move. 

Max could hear two voices now, Gwen and David. The protective and worried tremor of two caring adults. As the feeling of safety from that weird cold embrace faded, the councilors’ attempt at care, affection, and safety felt so very lacking. Like a bowl of hot water “soup” after having a hefty stew. Like any food after the sweetness of ice cream and candy. 

The voices flowed over and past and through him, just as the heat and warmth refused to reach him. He didn’t want it, he didn’t want them here ruining everything. 

Something slipped onto Max’s middle finger and everything rushed with warmth and he gasped for breath he hadn’t deemed necessary until now. 

“Fffffffuck!” He said through chattering teeth. He would rub his arms if he could move, but he was currently in a tight hug of David’s. Max hated to admit it, but it was everything he’d been missing in… whatever that had been. Warm. Warmth was what he’d been missing. Heat hadn’t been in that stove or the room or the hugs or… anywhere.

The warmth lulled him back to sleep soon enough.

* * *

 

Gwen moved to take the strangely non-thrashing child from David’s arms as they walked, imagining that ice block of a kid had to be sapping all his heat away by now. Strangely, though David seemed almost feverishly warm to the touch when she tapped his shoulder. Seeing that protective look in his eyes, she thought better of her offer and instead changed to questions.

“What the hell was all that? Is this related to all your divination crap?” 

“Yes. Uh no. Ugh just… Don’t ask, Gwen.”

“Dude we were just in what was probably a fa-”

“GWEN!” David said sharply. It was uncharacteristically serious of him and it made her stop.

“David.”

“Gwen all you need to know is the campers are in danger and the woods aren’t safe. Please just. I don’t want to lose any of them. Not like this.”

“Tell me after all this is over.”

“Deal.” David winced at his wording. It really was a deal now and he couldn’t break it…

 

After a little more walking, David looked down to Max in his arms. The chill was still there, still lingering against his skin, but not for much longer. How shitty of him to be happy over this, over getting to hold this grumpy kid so close because otherwise hypothermia might kill him… no… it wouldn’t kill him of course, but… 

But the last time he held a child like this… nestled in his arms in another bundle of blue… those brilliant blue eyes...

Tears welled in and fell from David’s eyes as they walked as briskly as they dared back to the mess hall. There was so much he regretted, so much he wanted to say… But he wanted to protect everyone, he had to protect them, had to honor those he hadn’t protected before. But he was tired of pretending, tired of hiding his tears behind a smile. 

“You deserve to be happy.” He mumbled, half to Max and half to himself. “You shouldn’t have to pretend for anyone.” He trailed a little behind Gwen, looking to Max’s shivering, still not quite conscious form. And he let it all drop. Everything but Max. Just for a moment.

A moment of truth, he thought, chuckling to himself when he was back to normal, the tears having burned themselves away.

Max hadn’t seen, but that final bit of chill was suddenly gone, and he looked up drearily at David. David who was pointedly looking ahead and running to catch up with Gwen. He shivered one more time and sighed in frustration at being carried, no matter the circumstance. 

“David what the hell?”

“Sorry, Max, but we’ve gotta get back fast. I’m a little worried for the other campers.”

“And a lot worried for your runaway?”

“You didn’t run.” David replied brightly and with absolute certainty. It stumped Max how the camp man was so damn sure the kid who wandered off in the night hadn’t run away on purpose. Did he trust him not to run away now? Surely David knew better than to think he’d ever stop trying to escape. 

Max clung to David’s shirt and neck as the two of them vaulted over a log in their way. A+ path upkeep right there. In his grabbing of the necktie… bandana… shirt?… thing of David’s, Max noticed the stupid ugly ring on his middle finger. It wasn’t…  _ overly  _ terrible for any specific reason. Just a simple tool piece with six flat sides and a circular middle turned into a ring. A shitty ring. A shitty fucking piece of trash he despised beyond his normal disdain for just about everything. 

It was weird how the stupid ring fit him perfectly. He guessed it was fitting to wear the repulsive thing on his middle finger so he could flip people off with even more force. But as soon as he could, he vowed to lob the shit into the lake.

The screams broke him out of his internal hate ramble and made him cling to David all the more. Something was  _ wrong _ . 

The feeling of being near the red one again was back. The traitor was near. And things were  _ wrong. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment your thoughts! We'd love to know what you're thinking and are all for any crazy theories you have to make sense of all this nonsense!


End file.
